He’d eased himself off her and rolled onto his back.
They’d both gazed at the ceiling, neither talking.
The silence had been deafening.
Goose bumps had broken out on her flesh, but she’d been too shy to pull the duvet up, a horrible feeling stealing over her that now he’d spent himself, she’d become invisible to him and he wouldn’t be happy at the reminder that she lay there beside him.
He’d sat up and run his fingers through his hair. The muscles of his back had moved with the motion. Her throat had closed, the ache to trace her hands over his smooth skin unbearable as it came with an instinctive fear that her touch wouldn’t be welcome.
The familiar smile had been on his face when he turned his head slightly to look at her. ‘I should leave you to get some sleep. A member of the housekeeping team is always on call, so just press the intercom if you need anything.’
Even now, she could remember her eyes widening in shock, but her tongue tying in retreat.
He’d leaned over to place a fleeting, dutiful kiss on her mouth. ‘Sleep well, Marnie.’
He’d pulled his boxers back on and strolled out of the room without looking back at her. She hadn’t uttered a single word of protest. She’d been incapable. Marnie had learned at a very young age that in times of conflict, silent invisibility was the safest course of action. More often than not, it hadn’t been necessary to make herself invisible because that’s what she’d already been to her parents, but lessons learned in childhood were the ones that stuck in your psyche the deepest.
Until their wedding night, Marnie had never felt invisible to Domenico.
Looking back, it wasn’t conflict that she’d been frightened of with him that night—he wasn’t the kind of man to raise a hand to a woman, he just wasn’t—but that to question him would lead to answers she wasn’t ready to hear. The fairy tale she’d built her dreams on was tumbling around her, and one wrong word would see it crumble into dust.
Nausea grabbed her, the water she’d drunk determined to expel itself out of her. She was leaning with her head out of the bed, vomiting clear fluid into the bucket when Domenico came into the room.
Without saying a word, he sat beside her and gently gathered her hair away from her face. When the retches had subsided and she’d wiped her mouth with one of the tissues and pulled her aching head back onto the pillow, she didn’t have the strength to protest when he stretched out beside her and tenderly spooned her to him, careful not to put any pressure on her stomach.
She didn’t have the strength, either, to lie to herself that his silent support wasn’t comforting. That being here with him and being taken care of like this wasn’t comforting.
‘I think it’s time we called a doctor out, don’t you?’ he said quietly. His breath was warm against the back of her head.
A tear rolled down her cheek, and suddenly she was terrified. The severity of her morning sicknesswasn’t normal, and it was a sickness that was accelerating.
‘Marnie?’
Squeezing her eyes shut as if it could drive away her terror that their baby was in danger, she nodded.
He kissed her hair, then moved away and climbed off the bed to make the calls that would no doubt have one of London’s top obstetricians there within the hour.
Domenico breathed deeply before opening the door.
To his huge relief, Marnie was sitting up in her hospital bed. The IV to replenish all her lost fluids that she’d been hooked back onto when he’d left the hospital for the night had been removed. She’d even regained a little colour in her cheeks.
She gave a fleeting smile at his appearance.
He moved the guest chair closer to the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked as he sat.
Another fleeting smile. ‘Better.’
‘The anti-sickness is working now?’
‘So far. They gave me the new one when I woke up, and the toast I ate has stayed down.’
Hyperemesis gravidarum. It sounded like a spell in a book about witches and wizards, but no, it was the technical name for severe morning sickness. Marnie hadn’t wanted to take the anti-sickness drugs, had only submitted when the doctor assured her it wouldn’t harm the baby.
That had been the moment Domenico realised she already loved their baby. Whether her denial about the pregnancy had been deliberate or not, the baby was already a part of her.
‘That’s great news.’ She’d vomited up the first anti-sickness drug while the second one, administered by injection, had had little effect, so it was another huge relief to know the third one they’d tried was working. There had been talk about tube feeding her to bypass her stomach, just to get some nutrients into her.
The consultant came into the room and greeted them with his usual professional smile. ‘I hear you’re finally on the mend,’ he said to Marnie.
